The Queen's Dignity
by Willandmorgan
Summary: Evanlyn and her friends have been banished from their home; Horace sits on a lonely throne. Why did he betray the ones he loved the most? And what about Evanlyn? How can she cope with this, as well as having to lead a community of her loyal subjects in the wilderness? T for violence. Not the best summary, sorry...Please review
1. Betrayal and Banishment

Cassandra stood tall, despite all of the unfriendly eyes bearing down on her. A small knot of dread had forced its way into her throat, and despair was seconds from setting in. Her head was reeling. How could all this be happening? There was really no explanation for this painful betrayal. At first, she'd tried to tell herself it was only a bad joke, of really poor taste. But she was an honest, open person, and that meant she was honest with herself. It was not a joke.

A calm voice she had once loved, but now came to equate with treachery, spoke. "You, Cassandra Altman, and your accomplices, have been found guilty of high crime, and will be expelled from the kingdom of Araluen, now and forever. The sentence becomes effective immediately. You are permitted one bag and one horse. You have until sundown to be out of the kingdom," Horace stared down at her and she could almost detect a note of sympathy, but not quite.

She could feel her world breaking down around her, crumbling to ashes. Her husband, a lying scoundrel who still clutched a piece of her heart in his hand. Her kingdom, no longer hers. Her friends, well, that was another matter entirely, for they were in the same boat as her. All banished, for however long they might live. But through all the horror and shock, she managed to pull herself together.

"My name is Evanlyn, and though you may deign to remove me from my land, it will still be mine, however long I might live. The people are loyal to their queen, wherever she might reside. I hope you regret this day for the rest of your life, Horace. And barring that, I hope you find your place in Hell torturous and miserable," Cassandra, now Evanlyn of the wilds, bowed crisply, and marched out of the oval chamber, not trying to mask the tears that flew freely.

Will, Gilan, Jenny, Halt, and Alyss were waiting for her in the long hallway. The skin around their wrists was red and puckered, and all of them, even Jenny, were looking malnourished. "We're leaving. I don't know where, but we must be gone by nightfall," she informed them, trying not to look at their eyes. She knew what she would find there. In Will's, a quiet sadness and tormented, frayed look that screamed "I've been shot in the back by my best friend!" In Gilan's, a look like her own, as if his life was being ruined by one man that he thought he knew well. In Halt's, a steely determination and an understanding, and in Alyss's, anger and hatred. Evanlyn couldn't face them; it was just too hard, so she led them to her chambers, where she had already prepared a bag for them.

It was a simple matter for Evanlyn to scoop the bag up and lead them outside where six horses were waiting to carry them from the word they thought they knew well. And as the horses' gait thundered under them, they reached the borders by night. No words passed between them, none were needed. And then, as they rode on, a shadowy figure joined their group. And then another, and another, and another, until the original party of 6 became a party of 20. Fourteen members of the Ranger Corps had joined them in their banishment. Two more people, riding hard, approached from behind them. Rodney and Baron Arald. Still no words were spoken, and still, none were needed. The quiet feeling of companionship bound them together.

And Evanlyn was regal, queenly, riding at the head of the pack. Her back was ramrod straight and her features proud, but really, she was just grateful for the support of her friends. They rode all night, and the drumbeat of horses' hooves was a battle cry that echoed through every skull. More and more riders joined the party every hour. The Queen would not be alone in her hour of need. Finally, as daylight began to streak across the sky and they were well into Celtica, a last lone rider joined them. George.

"For the love of all that shine's under this magnificent sun! Why do you have to ride so fast?"

Xx-xX


	2. Anguish and Amnesia

Horace's heart was not as cold as he made it out to be. It was cracking, shattering, melting, and he knew it would not soon mend. He found himself slumping into the throne, and the new day dragged on as tediously as the last. He only hoped that something, or more particularly, a certain someone, might arrive at the castle to break the monotony, and maybe his bonds as well. Horace couldn't stand to wait. It was like that feeling of calm before the storm, that moment that seemed to stretch into a thousand infinities.

Horace found himself wishing for a girl to hold close. Chiefly, a fiery tempered, powerful, talented, wily fox of a girl. But he also knew this girl would now only live on in his past and would not be present in his future. He had to keep telling himself that. She's the past, she's the past, she's the past, I still have my present to live. But nothing worked. His princess would forever be a ghost at the edges of his lonely world…

XxXx

"Halt, why would Horace betray us?" Will asked in a voice that quavered slightly. He could not find it in his heart to forget all the good times they'd had, but nor could he forgive Horace. Even Halt seemed a little sad, but that was all he showed. Only Will and Gilan could guess at how much anguish was hidden behind that stoic face.

"If I knew, I'd have told you. I honestly have no clue. We could go over and over the subject, but no answers are going to come. We just have to go by actions, not by reasons. He convicted us of high treason, and banished us. I think it'd be best to forget Horace, Will," Halt replied. He hated himself for saying it, but it was probably best if they wiped Horace from the records. It would have been best if it was just Will, George, Jenny, and Alyss in the ward, best if he never existed.

A small tear fell from Will's doe-like brown eyes. "I can't forget him. He is-was, my best friend. He's saved my life countless times, and I've done the same for him. We were brothers, Halt! Brothers!"

"I let go of my brother," said Halt gruffly. "You can let go of yours," And with that, the conversation was over. Will took to stringing and unstringing his longbow over and over again and watching the shadows dance across Halt's face. He suddenly seemed so…so _old_, and Will didn't want to let go of him. He'd lost Horace, and Evanlyn seemed to be growing far beyond his reach. Things were spiraling out of control for Will.

Gilan slipped unnoticed over to them and sat on the log next to Will. He felt an overwhelming urge to put his arm around him, but didn't. Will was almost like a brother to him, but a chasm was stretching between them. Gilan pulled out his sword and began to sharpen it with a metallic rasping sound. After a few minutes, Will spoke.

"Gil, that's really annoying. Can you sharpen your sword later?"

"Nope. You've always got to be battle ready! Who knows when bandits will attack?"

"Thanks for that shining gem of positivity," Halt broke in. "Now, I assume we're needed in the Queen's tent for a meeting. Hop to it now!"

So they did.


	3. Old Enemies and Old Secrets

"It's a matter of time before we are discovered, and I take it the current ruler of Celtica, King Cormic, does not take kindly to foreigners. The question we are faced with is where to go to," Evanlyn stated. Even as a queen of exiles, she was regal. Her advisors stood around her in the tent, all mulling over the problem they were faced with.

Will spoke first, his tone unsure in the beginning, but growing stronger. "I say Skandia. Erak would take us in, wouldn't he?"

Gilan was nodding his assent at the same time as Evanlyn shook her head. "Skandia is allied with Araluen, not with me. By taking us in, they could draw war from Horace. You know how devastating that would be, with the 200 archers stationed there,"

"How about Arrida?" Alyss suggested. Everyone knew she admired Selethen, the noble hawk-like warrior, and Will had established ties with Umar, leader of the Bedullins. Despite the intense heat, Arrida might be a good place to seek shelter at.

Evanlyn seemed to consider this. "Arrida would be a good choice, but do we have the money to rent a boat?" After a quick pause, Halt broke in.

"Actually, my lady, we do…"

She put her hands on her hips. "Is it illegal?" Halt bit his lip, and Will and Gilan tried to stifle smiles.

"Sort of…You know how me and Hor-" he realized his mistake. "You remember when I went through Gallica to find Will? Well, when we fought Deparnieux, I told his stewards they could keep everything, but I stole, well, a lot of money and deposited it with the Silasian Council….Sorry..."

Evanlyn took a few deep breaths, trying to curb her anger, and then realized she was being unreasonable. "Alright then. And you're prepared to withdraw this certain amount of money to buy us passage to Arrida?"

"Well…."

"It is illegal to hide money from conquests, I could have you flogged,"

"When you put it that way, the money is yours!" Halt answered quickly, and then resumed his normal nonchalant self, pulling up his cowl and crossing his arms.

"Great! Glad that's solved!" Gilan remarked cheerfully. "Now there's only one problem. Who do we send to get the money? Cause you know the Silasian Council only sets up base in the capital cities…"

"I'll go," Will said. "After all, I'm his adopted son; I can get his money out!"

Alyss nodded curtly. "And I'll go with him," Everybody left the tent one by one, all offering quick words of condolences to Evanlyn, who tried to stay strong. No one heard a cranky Halt.

"Thieves! The whole lot of them!"

XxXx

The hooded figure in the throne room was not familiar to Horace, but he couldn't, after all, see the face hidden underneath the cloak. When the man had walked in uncontested, Horace immediately knew it was the person sending him the notes, even though he had no evidence. And so, he was put on edge. This was the man who had ruined his life.

The man stood in front of Horace for a full two minutes in silence. Finally, he pulled something out from under his cloak. It was a cane…Horace almost recognized it, but could not remember where from.

The man pulled back his cowl and gave Horace a thin, cruel grin. "Remember me?


	4. Unforeseen Difficulties

_ I'm not for sure about liking this chapter…so please review and tell me what you thought…I'm going to try and write a chapter a day, but with school starting up again, it might not happen. Sorry if I fail to update…_

Will gave Halt his best attempt at a smile before turning and riding down the dirt road. Alyss took more time, kissing Halt on his grizzled cheek and giving Evanlyn a hug. She had to ride quickly to catch up with Will. "Be back soon, don't worry!"

And they went on their way, to get the money that might save them.

XxXx

A gasp escaped Horace. "You…" he murmured, and subconsciously let his fingers drift to his shoulder. He could remember the pain this man had induced, and even though it had been years ago, Horace still held a small grudge. And apparently, so did the other man.

Alda let his smile falter. "Yes, me. You and that damned Ranger ruined my life. I was to be a knight! A knight!"

"Well, on that count, I would consider us even! You turned me against my wife, my best friend, and a man who was like a father to me!"

Alda tapped the cane threateningly against his palm, much as he had done when they were younger. "Now, now, no need to get snippy. I hold all the cards…And you don't need to worry about your best friend, because soon he will be back at the castle and you can explain all you want…"

XxXx

The road to the heart of Celtica did not have much traffic, and Will and Alyss were content to ride quickly, slowing down to talk only when Will thought he heard someone else on the road. It was during one of these 'breaks' that a tall, handsome man rode up beside them. There was something about him that seemed vaguely familiar, and Will felt that he should know the man, but a name didn't come up.

The man road beside them for a while, making things slightly awkward as Will and Alyss attempted to carry on a false conversation about their "visit with Will's aunt". The man seemed content to drink it all in, seemingly unaware of Will's anxious eyes flicking back to him every couple of seconds.

And then, without warning, the man leapt from his horse onto Alyss's and pressed a knife to her neck. Alyss tensed, as if to put up a fight, but Will held up a hand.

"What do you want? Money? I have none, but I can get you some…" He was remember a trick Halt taught him. Talk, up to the point when you attack and then do it midsentence while still talking. But apparently, the man knew the trick as well.

"Shut up. Get off your horse and put your weapons on the ground. All of them," The man watched carefully as Will hoped nimbly off Tug. He dropped his bow and quiver and pulled out his larger saxe knife. The man glared and pressed the knife harder into Alyss's neck.

"Throwing knife and strikers, too. And that cloak. Take off the cloak," Will was caught unawares. How did this man know what weapons he carried? He pulled out the strikers and the smaller knife and let them fall to the dirt. His nimble fingers began working on the drawstring for his cloak. He really, really, really hated to lose it. It was his lifeline, that cape, and it had saved him many times. He laid it down very carefully over the weapons.

The man pulled something from his saddlebag with his one free hand and tossed it to Will. It was a pair of cuffs. "Tighten them to what you think you can take, and crank it down one more. I'll be checking later, and if they're not up to standard, you'll pay," So Will ratcheted them down on his wrists, to an almost painfully tightness. "I want you to go sit back against that tree over there. Your girlfriends going to stay right here, and neither of you are going to move. I'll kill her first, and then I'll hamstring the horse,"

As Will and Alyss moved to their appointed positions, the man a rope and proceeded to tie Tug to his own horse. He tied Alyss's horse to the tree Will was sitting against. "Get up, Treaty," the man ordered. It took Will a second to figure out the man was talking to him; he had never heard his last name said with so much venom, but he hauled himself up and walked over to the man.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to get on your horse and you're going to stay there, all the way to Castle Araluen. If you try to escape, I'll send someone back for your girlfriend and have her killed in front of you. Got it?" Will nodded and wordlessly got up on Tug. The man pointed at Alyss and jerked his head towards a tree. "Climb it, and stay there for an hour. I've got a man in the trees over there, and if you move, he'll ride to me and I'll…I'll make your boyfriend go for a swim wearing a suit of armor,"

And with that, the man spurred his horse and they began the long ride back to Araluen.


	5. Three birds with One Cage

_Wow, I'm not sure I like this chapter at all! It's just kind of a filler, I guess. RnR, please!_

"What do you mean, he's been taken?" Evanlyn shrieked as Alyss calmly related the events to her, Halt, and Gilan.

"I mean, a man, who seemed vaguely familiar somehow, rode beside us, and surprised Will by grabbing me and pressing a knife to my throat. Will of course, did the noble thing and followed through with the man's demands, which included laying down all of his weapons and his cloak, putting handcuffs on himself, and letting the man lead him away. That's basically it," Alyss's voice was smooth, but behind the diplomatic front, Halt could tell she was feeling stressed, to say the least.

Evanlyn was openly displaying her anxiety. "Did they say where they were taking him? Did the man ask for ransom?"

Alyss opened her mouth to say no, and then she remembered something. She rushed over to the bundle of Will's stuff, which she had picked up. A white note fell out of the cloak when she shook it. Evanlyn snatched it up and began to read.

"_By the time you find this, and I hope you find it soon for the sake of your young companion, we will be in Castle Araluen. You are all banished, but an exception will be made for the Ranger Halt, if he comes alone, and unarmed, besides a bow and one arrow. __One arrow__. Every day you wait, Will will find himself in more and more pain. –Horace_," She dropped the note and no one watched as it fluttered to the dirt floor.

Halt jumped up. "It's settled then. I go to Araluen," And on that note, he walked out.

XxXx

Horace was pacing back in forth in his throne room when Alda showed up again. He made as if to sit on the throne, and Horace let him. He didn't care about being King anymore.

"Why so glum, Horace? I've brought a friend to see you…" Alda mocked. Horace paid him no attention. And then Will was shoved into the room, bound and gagged. With the speed of the deadly warrior he was, Horace rushed over to Will.

"Will! Are you okay? They didn't hurt they did you?" Horace blurted, gently removing the gag from Will's mouth. Will looked up at him (He always had to look up at Horace), and spat on his chest.

"Traitor," he mumbled, and waited for Horace to hit him. Instead, Horace just recoiled, as if Will had bitten him. Alda laughed.

"Well, that's quite funny! I do something nice for you two, and you take it for granted! Maybe that calls for a little punishment, to get your little, no, tiny, friend to see sense!" Horace let out a startled yelp.

"No, don't! Please don't, Alda!" Alda just shrugged.

Will was looking a little confused, and glanced back and forth between Alda and Horace. Finally, he spoke. "Blackmail?"

Horace nodded and then froze up, as if he had done something he wasn't supposed to. "That settles it!" proclaimed Alda. "Now we have to beat it out of him!" He waved his hand and the man from Celtica, whom Will now realized to be Jerome, came and grabbed Will, dragging him out the door. The last words spoken were from Will.

"It's okay, Horace, I understand now. It's okay!"And then, he was pulled to the dungeons, were he would get a little taste of what was to come.


	6. One Arrow

Will had never been to the dungeons before, and found himself glad he hadn't. It was dark and damp and smelled faintly of blood, and he could almost hear the screams of the people that came before him. The walls were in a silent state of disrepair, crumbling and mossy, and Will knew it was because neither Duncan, long live the King, nor Evanlyn had used them.

Jerome thrust him into a cell at the front of the prison and proceeded to hook Will's hands to a metal bar in the ceiling. Being as small as he was, Will's feet didn't touch the ground and all his weight strained against his wrists. Jerome turned as if he were going to walk out, and then swung his fist into Will's stomach with a sickening _whumpf_. The punch nicked Will's solar plexus and he found himself gasping for air.

Pulling a small razor blade out of his pocket, Jerome smiled. "Remember when that old graybeard and Horace beat the living daylights out of us? Remember how you just stood around and watched? Well, now you're going to get a taste of what it was like to be us, only worse…" The razor blade rested against Will's bicep and with extreme precision, Jerome applied pressure and slid it down Will's arm. A small line of blood bubbled to the surface and the scent of wet copper filled Will's nostrils. The pain wasn't that bad, but he knew he would have to endure much more pain, and the thought of torture made him queasy.

"Please Jerome…Please?" he asked, almost begged. The Rangers were a group accustomed to extreme bravery, but somehow, they had an intense belief that they were going to survive, and nothing seemed that frightening. Will had lost that confidence, and it was turning his stomach to mush. He was going to die.

"Please? When your friend was beating up on us, we said 'please'. Where did that get us?" Jerome snarled, holding the scarlet-edged blade in front of Will's face. "The same place it's going to get you, Mr. Treaty…"

XxXx

Halt rode faster than he ever had before. Abelard held Halt's freakish pace, but seemed to be tiring gradually. After what seemed to Halt to have been an eternity, they finally crossed the border into Araluen, and Halt pushed Abelard to the extreme. He had to save Will, he had to!

Halt's quiver held only one arrow, as was asked, and he brought no other weapons with him. He couldn't fox when Will's life hung in the balance. He had considered slipping a knife into his boot, but what if Horace checked? What if he found the knife and decided to kill Will? Halt still couldn't figure out why Horace would do something like this. He had gotten rid of all of them, and now he was bringing them back into play. Halt's mind went over and over this problem but no solution arrived. In the end, he was content just to ride.

At long last, Abelard's feet clacked against the cobblestone streets of the capitol. Halt jumped off Abelard and left him with an awestruck boy, heading in a beeline for the castle. He went straight in; the drawbridge was down, and no guards manned it. Similarly, there were no servants bustling around. What had happened?

Halt took the twists and turns needed to get to the throne room, where he figured Horace might be. And when he entered the large room, he was right. But it wasn't just Horace there…

"You!" Halt's shouted when he saw Alda, much like Horace had. "It was all you!"

"Yes, yes it was. Now if you brought your one arrow, it's time to get down to business,"

Xx-xX


	7. Brief Authors Note

Okay, I am really, really trying to finish this story, but my computer hates me. I had a thousand words for the finale of this chapter, but my computer logged me out, so I started again. I had three hundred words and it logged me out _again_! So I think I'm going to take a break on this one, let my computer resolve its issues.

On another note, I think it needs a new title and a new summary…It has totally deviated from my original plan. Any ideas for a new title?


	8. Impossible Choices

Halt's heart was beating out of his chest with each step down the long, winding stairs. Alda's hand was attached to the back of his jerkin, but it had no need to be. Halt would have done anything for Will, even descend into the depths of hell or venture into the frozen wastelands that nothing ever left alive. Even if there was only the mere possibility of Will being alive, Halt would search for him until he could search no longer. So the seemingly never-ending trip to the dungeon was almost nothing.

What was bugging Halt, however, was the fact that Will could already be dead and Halt came for nothing. It was clear that this was a revenge plot. Alda had ruined Horace's life by forcing him to betray everything he held dear, but what about Will and Halt? What was Alda going to do to them? Halt was accustomed to responding to sudden danger, but he was not used to realizing he was being led into a trap and could do nothing about it.

Finally, they entered the dungeons. Halt was proud to say he had been there only once in his lifetime, and it had not been in the state it was in now. The walls were crumbling and mossy, the torture devices, which had not been used since Duncan's predecessor John, were rusty. The worst part however, was the smell. Mold, wet copper, and rank terror confronted Halt's nostrils. He hated the smell of fear, it was desperation and urine and sweat and steel. He wondered if the fear was coming from Will...

They didn't go far into the dungeons. In fact, the door they stopped in front of was one of the first. Halt could hear dull moans of pain from inside the cell, and a sharp scream followed them. Halt's fingers clenched numbly in a fist. He knew that was Will. He just _knew _it! "Alda, open the door," he growled, but Alda just grinned and shook his head. Another small shriek escaped the room. After forcing Halt to wait a bit longer in a display of his overpowering control, Alda finally threw the door open dramatically.

A grunt much like that of wounded animal parted Halt's lips as he looked inside the room. A shirtless Will was dangling from the ceiling, his wrists bound to a metal bar running an inch below the ceiling. Scarlet tears meandered around his skin, stemming from various lacerations and deep purple flowers were already beginning to blossom on his stomach, chest and shoulders. Jerome stood next to him, an unforgiving smile on his thin lips and a bloody razor-blade clutched in his pale hand.

Halt had expected to see Will. Maybe not this bloody and bruised, but he had expected to see him. Halt had not, however, planned on seeing the third person in the room. It was Pauline, standing tall and elegant despite her situation. She did appear a little frazzled though. Her gray-blonde hair was drifting away from her ponytail and her eyes displayed a little panic. A reluctant-looking Bryn stood behind her, an unused knife dangling from his fingers. It seemed even criminals had issues hurting someone as beautiful and pure as Pauline.

"I think it's about time to pull out your longbow and that one arrow..." Alda suggested maliciously, and Halt suddenly realized what Alda's master plan was.

"No, no, no, no, no..." he whispered. He couldn't believe that someone could ask him to choose between his wife and his son. It was the cruelest thing he had ever witnessed, let alone been a part of. He drew the arrow and put it to the string, but couldn't bring himself to draw it back.

"Go on, shoot! I've been told you never hesitate, nor miss. Don't make a habit of it now!" teased Alda, with a touch of venom. Halt shakily pulled the string back to full draw, but the point swung back and forth. Will had much more left to live for, but Pauline was the love of his life. Will, who had been seemingly unconscious, raised his head and croaked.

"Halt. Halt, you need to shoot me. I won't mind, I swear," His brown eyes met Halt's, pleading with him to give in.

"Will is in his prime Halt. If you don't shoot me, I will never forgive you," Pauline stated cooly, and Halt saw steel in those eyes. But he couldn't. He couldn't.

The draw slipped a little in his sweaty grip and a his heart stopped in a moment of terror, thinking he had just killed his wife. And in that moment, he knew he couldn't. The point swung to Will. Halt let the draw drop a little more and then released it. He heard a meaty smack and closed his eyes. He had shot his son.


End file.
